


Cockles in London

by Tennyo



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Bottom Misha, Cameo appearances by:, Danneel - Freeform, Gishwhes 2014 reference, Hand Jobs, JJ - Freeform, Jared - Freeform, Light Bondage, M/M, People who follow Misha might recognize a referenced tweet or two, Post Asylum 14, Snuggling, Still in London, it's linked, kind of public sex, light powerplay, references to a past work of mine, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-14
Updated: 2015-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-30 12:05:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3936130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tennyo/pseuds/Tennyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Asylum 14, they decide to stay in London for a while before heading to Rome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cockles in London

**Author's Note:**

> I was completely SHOCKED at how little Cockles fic came out of Asylum 14.  
> I couldn't come up with a better title than this, and the song "Werewolves of London" kept echoing through my head with this title.  
> It's half-beta'd, but I was in a bit of a time-crunch since I wanted to post it tonight.  
> If you have watched SPN 10.22, you might need something fun.  
> Feel free to leave me feedback, I accept concrit happily.

Jensen is on his laptop, talking with Danneel on Skype. It’s late in London, but only early afternoon in Texas. JJ is in Danneel’s lap, and she’s obviously touching the computer screen, smiling at her father’s face. God, but he misses them. Things have been so busy with shooting, and then training for the Tough Mudder, it feels like he never got to spend any time with them before flying out to London. And then of course, it’s tradition they all stay in Europe the week before the convention in Rome. But his girls are staying behind. At least Jared has Gen to keep him company.

A knock at the door drags Jensen’s attention from the screen, and he says he’ll be right back. It’s Misha, and Jensen breaks into a grin at the sight. “Hey, man. Come on in, I’m just talking to Dani.”

He closes the door as Misha enters, and watches as he casually waves at the computer screen before going to settle in a chair, his phone already in hand. He’s stripped off his sweater, and is in his jeans and untucked plaid shirt. Small smile on his face, Jensen sits back in front of the computer, to find JJ squirming in Danneel’s lap.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Daddy’s back.”

“Want down!” JJ’s tiny voice says through the speakers.

“I think she got bored from sitting in my lap,” says Danneel, bending out of frame to place JJ on the floor. “I should probably let you go, since you’ve got company.”

“Dani, don’t be that way, I miss you.”

Danneel smiles, “I know, honey. I miss you, too. But I’m used to you being gone, and I know you’re not alone now.”

Jensen closes his eyes, listening to the love in his wife’s voice. He wonders how he ended up with such an amazing woman. “I love you,” he says, throat tight, opening up his eyes halfway through to see Danneel beam at him.

“I love you too, sweetheart, and so does JJ.” The sound of an incoming Skype call echoes through Jensen’s speakers, telling him that Danneel is receiving the call. “I better get that. Behave yourselves, and don’t forget the souvenirs, alright?”

“Okay, baby.”

Danneel blows Jensen a kiss, and the call disconnects, leaving Jensen with a black screen. He sighs, and scrubs his face with his hands. Sometimes, he feels like he’s abandoning his family to do so many conventions. There’s what, twenty this year? And Danneel’s always been so good about it, just an amazing woman.

He hears the sound of shifting fabric, and a warm palm lands on his shoulder. “Hey,” Misha says softly.

“Hey,” Jensen replies, his voice still a little rough with emotion. He drops his hands into his lap, keeping his eyes closed.

“I think that incoming call was from Vicki, she said she was planning on telling Danneel happy Mother’s Day.”

Jensen nods, and leans his head back to rest on Misha’s belly. The hand on his shoulder tightens, and another begins raking through his hair. It feels good, relaxing. Letting out a slow breath, he glances up to see Misha looking down at him, a small, sympathetic smile on his lips.

“I know how hard this is on you, being gone from home so much.”

Jensen huffs, and pulls away from Misha’s touch. “You piss me off sometimes, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

Standing up, Jensen makes his way to the mini fridge for a beer. “You’re in barely half the episodes this season, usually less. You get to spend a helluva lot more time with your family.” Jensen turns around to see Misha, his hands on the back of the abandoned chair, frowning at him. He offers the guy a beer, but he shakes his head.

“Is that somehow my fault?”

Jensen pops the cap off his beer, and takes a long drink before answering. “No, it’s just… Sometimes I wish I had your schedule.”

He can’t help how he feels. He knows he’s passed up multiple movie opportunities to stay on Supernatural, but it’s steady work, and they’re all one big family. Giving all that up is a bit frightening, even at the cost of missing time with his girls back in Austin. But sometimes, he feels like he has no control over anything, that his life is completely dictated by the actions of Dean Winchester. That, and millions of screaming fans. There are days he resents needing Clif to follow him around everywhere, while Misha goes jogging alone most mornings.

Now he feels like shit, and Misha’s here to spend time with him, and he’s probably gone and pissed the dude off. He looks up to find Misha halfway to him, palms held out like he’s approaching a skittish animal. With a snort, he takes another swig of beer. “I’m not gonna bite or anything.”

Misha’s mouth twists into a wicked half grin. “No, you usually ask first.”

And just like that, he feels the tension begin to leave him. It’s amazing, how just looking into the blue pools of Misha’s eyes can help center him, after all this time. Of course, it took a long time to get here, years of sexual tension, a minor gay freakout that had them barely talking to each other outside of work for months, and then an understanding that grew into whatever the hell this is. Misha’s got some kind of strange pull that leaves Jensen floating in orbit around him.

Misha’s closer now, and all he would have to do is reach out and touch. But Jensen holds still, beer in hand, and they watch each other for a moment. There’s a calculating look in Misha’s eyes that usually means he’s up to no good. Jensen breaks eye contact to gulp down the last of his beer. Empty bottle tossed in the trash, he turns back to Misha’s hands grasping his.

“Hey,” Jensen says softly.

“Hey,” Misha says back, gently tugging him into a hug.

Hooking his chin over Misha’s shoulder, Jensen enjoys the press of their bodies together, the feel of Misha’s arms wrapped around him, the body under his hands. It doesn’t take much, a nuzzle to Misha’s ear, their scruffs rubbing together, before they’re kissing, long and deep, tongues remapping each other’s mouths. It’s slow and easy, like very little else in their lives these days. Misha pulls back after a while, fingers laced at the small of Jensen's back, hips still together.

Foreheads pressed together, they rub noses, and Misha presses another kiss to Jensen’s lips before pulling back. “So I was thinking—”

Jensen can’t help the chuckle that erupts, because he just _knew_ Misha was planning something. Hands on Misha’s shoulders, he says, “And just what were you thinking, hmm?”

“Maybe we can try something different tonight?” Misha asks with his most innocent face.

“Different how?”

Misha shrugs with one shoulder, and rolls his eyes up, “Maybe some powerplay?”

Jensen gives him an incredulous look, because if there’s one thing Misha enjoys, it’s bossing him around. He remembers [last year after VegasCon](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1329418), when he’d been strapped to the bed, and Misha had licked whipped cream off of his body before fucking him senseless. The look Misha gets when he’s in control… Jensen can’t help but let his mind drift, before focusing back on Misha, who’s watching him intently.

“That’s not different at all.”

A wicked grin appears on Misha’s lips, “It is if _you’re_ the one in control.”

 _Oh_. Yeah, that would be different. Leave it to Misha to get to the heart of a situation. Jensen’d just been thinking about how he feels like he’s lost control of his life. “How far you wanna go with it?”

“Not any further than you’d be comfortable, of course. And all we have for restraints is belts and neckties.”

“Hmmm,” Jensen thinks about it, and the more he thinks, the more he likes it. They already have rules in place, they’d just be switching roles. His hands slide to Misha’s forearms, and he straightens his back, tilting his chin up so he’s looking down his nose into blue, blue eyes. With a quirk of his eyebrow he asks if it’s too early to start now.

Misha grins, wide and toothy. “You think you can pull it off in that pink shirt?”

“It’s salmon,” Jensen sneers at him, but without any real feeling behind it. “I guess you should take it off then, hmmm?”

Misha gives him a coy look. “Is that an order?”

Getting into his role, Jensen tucks his chin, and looks straight into Misha’s eyes. “Take it off,” he growls.

Eyes flashing wide for a second, Misha hurries to comply, undoing the buttons down Jensen’s chest. Once the shirt is open, he slips it off his shoulders, trailing hands down Jensen’s arms. Once the shirt is set aside, Misha looks back up eagerly, awaiting his next command. _This is kinda hot_ , Jensen thinks. He holds out his left wrist, and Misha takes off his watch. The other wrist, and the bracelets come off.

Torn between getting completely naked and making Misha strip, Jensen’s eyes roam over Misha’s face, taking in how he shamelessly ogles Jensen’s naked torso. “Keep going,” he orders, and when Misha reaches for his belt, Jensen grabs his wrists. “Is that how you undress yourself?”

Misha looks at him in confusion a moment before he realizes, then kneels down to untie and remove Jensen’s boots. When he’s ready to remove each shoe, he places a hand on the back of Jensen’s calf, and squeezes gently, prompting him to lift his foot. Task complete, Misha rests on his heels, and palms the backs of Jensen’s legs.

“Now can I take off your belt?”

Jensen nods, and watches as Misha undoes the buckle, and slowly pulls the belt from the loops of his black jeans. “Your friend Orlando crashed my panel with Jared’s belt today.”

Misha nods, folding the belt over before setting it on the floor. Jensen continues, “He _smelled_ it. And here I thought no one was weirder than you.”

Misha smirks, and runs his hands up Jensen’s thighs, thumbs grazing his front before reaching for the button at his fly. “I thought you liked that I was weird?”

Jensen licks his lips, watching Misha’s eyes dilate as he undoes the top button, exposing even more skin. “I like the hot-weird parts of you.” He has to suppress a groan as Misha undoes his zipper. “But then there’s just plain crazy.”

He helps Misha peel him out of his jeans, and then he’s standing there in dark boxer-briefs, with Misha still on his knees, eyeing his growing bulge. Not sure what to do next, Jensen tells Misha to strip, and he sits down in a chair to watch. Misha takes his time and has no shame as he gratuitously grazes his fingers along his body, knowing Jensen enjoys the view.

When Misha’s down to his own underwear, an orange pair of briefs -this dude and his strange traditions- Jensen tells him to bring his belt. Misha grabs his own belt, but Jensen doesn’t want to deal with the huge buckle. He points to the one Misha left on the floor when he was undressing Jensen. When it’s brought to him, Jensen takes the belt in hand and has Misha turn around, hands behind his back. Careful with the strap of leather, Jensen binds Misha’s wrists, and loops it over repeatedly to try to make a gap so it doesn’t chafe.

“Is that comfortable?” he asks.

Misha wriggles his wrists, and while the belt gives, it doesn’t come undone. “Yes, I think I’m stuck like this until you untie me, and it’s not going to cut off circulation.”

Grunting out an acknowledgement, Jensen runs his hands up and down Misha’s thighs, feeling the runner’s muscles there. Small smile on his lips, he now knows what he wants to do. With a smack to Misha’s round ass, Jensen tells him to get on the bed. Misha eagerly complies, carefully crawling up on his knees. When he starts to turn around, Jensen tells him no, to face the headboard. With Misha in place, Jensen fluffs the pillows in what he hopes are strategic placements.

Preparations complete, he gets onto the bed behind Misha, making him spread his knees wider. Hands on Misha’s hips, Jensen slides his palms up his sides, and then down his toned chest. Scooting closer, he says Misha's not allowed to touch, as his hands are dangerously close to Jensen’s cock and balls. When he receives a nod, he trails his fingernails down Misha’s abdomen, teases at the waistband of his underwear, and then firmy cups his erection, giving it an affectionate squeeze. Misha throws his head back, resting it on Jensen’s shoulder as his hips rock forward, bound hands balling into fists.

“You can make all the noise you want, Mish. I just want you to do what I tell you.”

He gets a panting moan in response, so he reaches down and fondles Misha's balls for a moment. While thinking of sliding Misha’s ugly orange underwear off and getting his hands on actual flesh, Jensen remembers he forgot an important element in all this. He kisses the side of Misha’s neck, whispers for him to stay still, and slides off his bed to go digging through his bags.

Returning with a brand new bottle of Astroglide, he tosses it on the bed and slips Misha’s underwear past his asscheeks. Jensen nibbles across his shoulder, massaging the globes of his ass, before sliding both hands forward to grab onto the length that’s starting to flag from lack of attention. Once it’s standing fully erect, with Misha panting desperately, Jensen carefully leans Misha forward, so that he’s propped up with pillows across his chest and shoulders, with no danger of suffocation.

He slips his hands down Misha’s arms, grabbing his ass again, spreading the cheeks wide so he can see his puckered entrance. He drags a thumb across his hole, and gets a twitch of hips in response.

“You’re doing so good Mish, just be patient, then I’ll get to the main event.”

Misha whimpers, as he presses his thumb firmly against his perineum, giving it a firm circular rub before reaching forward to roll his balls in his hand. The underwear’s in the way for what he wants to do, so he carefully slides the briefs down, getting them past one knee at a time without having Misha topple over. He has Misha spread his knees even wider, before dipping down and nuzzling just behind his balls, sliding a hand forward to stroke at his cock, feeling the precome beading at the tip. Misha cries out, and his hands clench and unclench wanting to grasp onto something.

Jensen gives Misha his left hand to hold, and leans down to give a nip to a cheek, reaching for the lube with his right hand. Popping the top with his thumb, he pours it straight onto that dip above the tailbone, which makes Misha jump as the coolness lands on his flushed skin. He hears Misha swear, and that just makes him grin evilly.

“Hold still, Mish.”

Dragging his middle and index fingers though the warming puddle of lubricant, Jensen massages Misha’s hole, getting it to relax. As soon as he’s ready, Jensen slowly pushes in his middle finger all the way in. Misha’s hands tighten around the one he’s offered, and he squeezes back, letting him know he’s being good. He takes his thumb and rubs around the rim, waiting for it to relax enough to take a second finger, only twisting it around, but not sliding in or out. When Misha whines, asking for more, Jensen slowly pulls out, then presses back in with two.

Misha’s thighs are trembling with the effort of not moving, and his hands have a deathgrip on Jensen’s left hand. “You’re doing so good, Mish. Just a little longer.” His fingers twist inside of Misha’s hole, and when he finds his prostate, gives it a quick press and rub. At that, Misha’s control snaps, and he bucks, crying out.

“Fuck, Jensen!”

He pants and then manages to say, “Please let me move or _something_ , but quit torturing me!”

Jensen extracts his hand from Misha’s grip, stills his fingers still buried in his ass, and purses his lips, appraising Misha’s rear. “You want me to stop?” He slowly starts sliding his fingers out. “We can stop right now if you want me to.”

That gets a whine in response, and Misha pushes his hips back, trying to keep the fingers from slipping out of his ass.

“Wait!”

This makes Jensen grin, knowing he’s driving him crazy.

“What?” he says with as innocent a voice as possible, “You don’t want to stop?”

“No! Just… Please, let me move a little?”

Loving the control he has, Jensen gives little sucking nips across Misha’s left ass cheek. Using a childish, pouty tone, he says, “Well, if you really don’t want to stop, I guess I could let you move a little.”

Misha groans, burying his face in a pillow, before turning to speak again, “Jesus fuck, DO NOT STOP. Please.”

Jensen chuckles, and slides his fingers back inside, curving them so they slide right against Misha’s prostate. “If that’s what you really want.”

Breath hitching at the stimulation, Misha pants, “Yes. Yes please, I want.”

Fuck it’s hot to have Misha beg like this. Reaching down with his free hand, Jensen adjusts himself in his underwear, feeling the wet spot from his own precome, and gives his erection a squeeze, like a promise of things to come. He continues prepping with agonizing slowness, completely avoiding Misha’s drooling cock, and he’s spreading three fingers inside, twisting and brushing his P-spot, but not enough to make him come untouched. The whole time, he uses his other hand to rub Misha’s back, his thighs, squeezes his ass cheeks. Misha pants and pleads, calls out swears and curse words, and Jensen’s name.

Finally, even Jensen can’t take the teasing anymore, and he places a gentle kiss on each of Misha’s cheeks as he pulls his fingers out all the way, slowly. “You’ve been so good Mish, it’s time to finish now.”

“Thank fucking God,” Misha mumbles, sagging into the pillows.

Jensen quickly unties the belt from Misha’s wrists, and gives him a moment to stretch his arms out, before he presses Misha flat against the bed. He’s spread out against him, chest to back, and nibbles Misha’s ear before whispering, “I want you to be able to push back against me while I pound you into the mattress.”

This makes Misha squirm, and the grinding against Jensen’s cock feels so good. He used enough lube during prep that all he has to do is slide his cock between Misha’s ass cheeks to get it nice and wet. Still pressed to Misha’s back, nibbling his neck and shoulder, Jensen lifts his hips, and reaches down to guide himself to Misha’s entrance. The touch of his head to Misha's hole causes it to clench, but it soon relaxes, and he slips slowly inside, inch by glorious inch, until he’s fully seated, and panting against the back of Misha’s neck.

“Damn, you feel so good, Mish.”

“Y—You too,” Misha pants, tilting his head to watch Jensen. “Feel like moving anytime soon?”

Rolling his hips, Jensen’s hands interlace with Misha’s. “For this to be a powerplay, you sure are being a bossy bottom.”

Misha wiggles his hips, trying to find a better angle. “I thought that was finished when you untied my hands.”

Growling, Jensen bites down on a fleshy part of Misha’s shoulder, snapping his hips forward. “Does it _feel_ like it’s over yet?”

“ _Ah_! Mmmm, my mistake. Please continue.”

Jensen buries his face into the crook of Misha’s neck and ruts against his ass in shallow thrusts, purposefully angling so he doesn’t hit his prostate. Misha’s so tight and hot, Jensen doesn’t want it to end. But he can feel the pleasure building, and he decides to get down to business.

He pulls out slowly and snaps back in, causing Misha to cry out with an exhale on each thrust. Both are past words, and have devolved into moans, whimpers, and groans, as Jensen picks up his pace, hips snapping faster and aiming for Misha’s P-spot now. He knows Misha’s getting friction on his cock from the bed covers, and he’s not gonna last long. Jensen keeps pounding, reveling in the roll of Misha’s hips as he pushes back, trying to lever Jensen deeper still.

Hands still clenched together, he feels Misha’s fingers tighten, then his body spasm, his hole tightening, and a shudder, as Misha groans through his orgasm. God, it feels so fucking good, and Jensen keeps grinding into Misha, right through his orgasm, feeling his own build as Misha’s entrance spasms around him.

Chasing his release, Jensen’s hips stutter and lose rhythm, his pants hot and heavy in Misha’s ear. He feels it, right there, right on the edge, his cock hardening, and then there it is, that rush, that exhilarating ecstasy, and he rides through it, whimpering against Misha’s neck, feeling his come pump inside that beautiful ass. He’s reduced to a quivering mass, his hips still twitching, as he gasps for air.

With a squeeze, Misha releases Jensen’s fingers, then wedges his elbows under to raise his upper body for air. They’re both slick with sweat, breathing heavy, and Jensen’s bones feel like jelly. Voice rumbling pleasantly, Misha speaks.

“I love snuggling with you after, but can we do it in such a way so I can breathe?”

Jensen huffs, and stays connected as he rolls them over onto their sides, curling around Misha’s body. Tucking his hips tightly against Misha’s, he tries to avoid having his softening cock slip out. He likes staying inside as long as possible, and always mourns the loss of that connection. Misha understands, and snuggles into him, indulging his whim.

Eventually, their breaths steady, hearts return to a normal rate, and the sweat cools, becoming uncomfortable. Wanting to stay curled up just a little longer, Jensen tightens his hold around Misha, nuzzling his neck. But soon, Misha’s pulling back Jensen’s arm, and slipping away to turn and face him.

“Come on, quick shower then under covers.”

With a groan, Jensen rolls onto his back. “You gonna stay?”

“Hmmm,” Misha kisses his chest. “I could be persuaded.”

Jensen grins, “Wash your hair for you?”

Misha rolls his eyes up like his thinking. “Wash my back too, and you have a deal.”

“Deal.”

With an evil grin, Misha presses his sticky belly against Jensen as he leans in for a kiss.

“Eww!”

“That’ll get you in the shower faster. I’ll get it started.”

Misha rolls off the bed, and pads to the bathroom, leaving the door open as he turns on the water for the shower.

Jensen watches as his unconventional lover disappears around the doorframe, before flopping back and staring at the ceiling. Misha was right, he does feel better, and it’s more than just the orgasm. Somehow, Misha seems to know just what he needs to get his head screwed back on straight.

“I’m waiting!” Misha calls from the bathroom, and Jensen hauls himself off the bed to join him.

* * *

 

Jensen wakes, soft sunlight filtering through the curtains of his room. He reaches out, but finds the rest of his bed empty. Opening his eyes, he looks to find an empty room. Dammit, Misha promised. He hears a flush, and the running of water, then Misha appears from the bathroom, in a ratty old t-shirt and running shorts.

Groaning, Jensen rolls onto his back, an arm thrown over his eyes. “Can’t you skip the run just for one day?”

He hears Misha move from one side of the room to the other, “I missed yesterday’s run, and I really shouldn’t get lazy about it, even if I’m in another country.”

 _Freak_ , thinks Jensen, but he bites his tongue, knowing how Misha hates that word. Verbalizing his frustration will not get Misha back in bed with him. He peeks at the clock, and groans again. it’s just barely after six in the morning.

“Does it have to be so damn early?”

Misha comes over and sits on the edge of Jensen’s side of the bed, and pulls his arm away so they can look at each other. “If it wasn’t so early, I couldn’t be showered and ready to join you for breakfast by the time you get up.”

Well, he has a good point there. But it would still be nice to snuggle up to Misha’s warmth and sleep together for a little longer. “Fine, you go get your running out of the way, and then breakfast.”

With a smile, Misha leans down and gives him a quick peck on the lips, then stands up and heads to the door. “If you’re not up when I get back, I’ll wake you when I head for the shower.”

Nodding, Jensen rolls over and pulls the covers over his head, hearing the click of the door shut.

He next wakes when he hears the door of his suite open, and Misha comes in, face flushed from exertion, hair sticking up every which way. He kicks off his shoes, and pulls off his sweaty t-shirt. When he glances over at Jensen, he breaks into a smile and comes over. “Morning, sunshine! Ready for breakfast?”

Jensen rubs the sleep from his eyes and props up on his elbows, watching as Misha shimmies out of his shorts. “Yeah, as soon as I throw some clothes on.”

After Misha’s had a shower, and Jensen takes his time to thoroughly give him a good-morning kiss, they’re downstairs at the breakfast bar. They’re a little late, and the selection has gotten pretty thin. Jensen will never understand how people can eat beans for breakfast, and whatever the hell that black pancake looking thing is. After scooping the last of the fruit into two bowls, he grabs some toast and bacon. Not the healthiest breakfast, but it will have to do for now.

When Misha brings their coffee, he frowns at their plates until Jensen promises he’ll do better for lunch. While he’s finishing off his coffee, he gets a text from Jared, wanting to know if he plans on doing anything this morning. He texts back that he’s probably just going to hang around the hotel until after lunch. Jared says he’s going to borrow Clif to take Gen for some sightseeing.

Jensen puts his phone away, plotting ways to get Misha back in his bed for the rest of the morning. But when he tells that Jared has Clif for the morning, Misha asks if he can take him somewhere.

“What, sightseeing?”

Misha nods his head to the side, “There’s a place I want to go check out, and it’s not far from here. Maybe we could go, hang out until lunchtime?”

 _I’d rather check out my sheets, with you between them_ , thinks Jensen, but he agrees to let Misha drag him wherever he wants to go. After wandering through the streets for about a half hour, they end up at Kensington Gardens. Misha gets this excited look on his face, and Jensen wonders what’s so exciting about trees and grass, because it just looks like a park to him. Yeah, it’s nice and all, but is there something he wants to show him? Jensen’s taken by the arm, and they head down a path towards the center of the park.

Misha’s babbling on about his gish-thing, and Jensen kind of tunes him out, because he _really_ doesn’t want to get involved with whatever crazy crap he’s planning this year. And, maybe he’s still a little miffed that Mish dropped out of Tough Mudder. If there’s anyone who shouldn’t have a problem running it, it’d be him. Even Rob did it, and that man is a stroke survivor.

They reach a stand of trees with low-hanging branches, and Misha dashes off to go look at… their roots? Jensen stands at the edge of the walkway, wondering if he’s supposed to come and look too. After a moment, Misha comes back with a disappointed look on his face.

“So what were you looking for?” Jensen asks, as Misha pulls him back down the path.

With a frown, Misha looks back at him. “Weren’t you listening to anything I’ve been talking about?”

Oops. “I dunno man, something about that gish-thing you do every year. You know I don’t like to get involved.”

“Well, if you’d paid _attention_ ,” Misha gives him a stern look, “You’d know that last year, one of the items was to build a fairy house here. I was hoping a couple survived.”

“Do you even know where to look? This place is kind of massive.”

“I’ve seen the pictures, so I have a good idea.” Misha gives him that Castiel-like glare, and Jensen concedes, allowing Misha to drag him around the park in search of whatever the hell a fairy house is.

The sun is hot, and Jensen’s going to start to burn if they don’t find shade soon. Misha hasn’t found a single damn fairy house yet, and Jensen begs for them to stop at a bench under a tree near the water. When they sit, Misha has his phone out, looking at a map of the park, and he says that they might have better luck near the Peter Pan statue, which is close to where they are. Jensen just wants a bottle of water.

When they get to the Peter Pan statue, Misha’s hunched over around the bushes drawing attention to himself. Groaning, Jensen hauls the guy around a corner. “You look like an absolute nut, digging through the bushes. There are people with cameras!”

Misha shrugs, and then his eyes are drawn to something. “I found one!” He hops over a short fence, and is squatting at the base of a tree. Jensen leans over the fence, to see what looks like some twigs lined up across some roots. That’s it?

“Um... yeah, that’s... nice, I guess.” Jensen’s standing awkwardly at the fence, hands in his pockets, glad there’s nobody around right now to see Misha rooting around on the wrong side of the fence.

“Jensen, come here. You have to see this!”

When he looks, he can barely see where Misha is, partially hidden by the shrubs. With a glance over his shoulder, he vaults the fence and ducks down to get to Misha, who has now retreated even farther into the bushes. The shade is nice, and when his eyes adjust, he sees what Misha’s squatted down taking pictures of. It’s kind of like there’s a whole little town of poorly built and partially collapsed stick structures, mostly using the bushes and trees for support.

He just stands there, hunched over with his hands in his pockets, waiting for Misha to get done with his pictures. “Can we head back now? I’m starting to get hungry, and more than a little thirsty.”

Misha looks up with a pout, “Yeah, if you’re bored we can head back.”

After a couple more pictures, he puts his camera away and stands up, coming close to Jensen. Fingers reaching out to trace his collar, he whispers, “I’m sorry. I forget you don’t find these things as interesting as I do.”

Damn, but Misha looks so kissable right now. Jensen realizes how intimately close they are, and glances around to realize that nobody can see them this deep in the bushes. He looks back to see a wide-eyed worried look, just begging for forgiveness, and a kiss to those wide, parted lips is so tempting.

“You wanna make it up to me?” he whispers, tugging Misha over to where there’s a small tree.

Misha glances around, and a smile transforms his face. “What do you have in mind?”

Hand at the back of Misha’s neck, Jensen leans in and captures Misha’s mouth. Tongue dipping inside, it meets Misha’s oh-so-dexterous one, and soon they’re panting, with Jensen pressed up against the tree, Misha’s hips rocking against his. With a muffled groan, he reaches down grabbing handfuls of that fantastic ass, and pulls Misha even tighter against him.

Pulling back, Misha whispers, “I know we can’t be seen, but we could be heard if you’re too loud.”

Jensen leans forward to nip at Misha’s kiss-swollen lips. “Says the man that once came so loud, the neighbor thought someone got injured.”

With a growl, Misha leans back in and devours Jensen’s mouth, hand reaching down to palm his erection. Jensen follow suit, and soon they’re grasping, stroking the other’s cock, and rutting up into his partner’s fist. Jensen comes first, biting down on Misha’s shoulder to silence his cry. It makes Misha whimper, and a couple of strokes later Jensen is catching his release in his palm.

They pant and lean on each other, and Jensen glances down at his spunk-covered hand before reaching back and wiping it on the tree trunk. Gross. Hopefully they'll find a water fountain near here. Misha pulls back, reaches into the bag he has with him, and pulls out a hand towel. A fucking hand towel. Would have been nice to know he had that. Misha wipes off his hand and passes the towel to Jensen, who’s looking at him questioningly, one eyebrow raised.

“What? I have two kids. It’s habit.”

“But you forgot water.”

Misha shrugs, “Nobody’s perfect.” He carefully folds the towel and tucks it back into his bag. “Besides, you should always know where your towel is.”

Jensen just stares blankly at him.

“Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?”

Nope.

Misha rolls his eyes, “Heathen.”

After the get straightened back up, they sneak back out onto the main walk and start talking about lunch. Misha mentions something about a ‘cheeky Nandos’ and says he wants to see if the restaurant is any good. As long as Jensen gets to sit, have a drink and something to eat, he’s good with whatever. Misha finds a Nando’s, which turns out to be a spicy chicken place. Jensen gets a wrap and mediterranean salad, and they eat by the windows, watching traffic and pedestrians go by.

When they get back, it turns out that the spices in the chicken don’t agree with Misha too well, which is surprising, considering the man recently ate week-old pickled Easter eggs and was fine. So Misha says to leave him behind, and Jensen, Jared and Gen go shopping, Clif in tow. It’s nice being in a foreign city, people aren’t looking for you, and you’re less recognized.

They stay out late, and have dinner at a nice restaurant. By the time they get back to the hotel, Jensen might be more than a little tipsy from too many drinks. When he’s back in his room, he texts Misha. He gets a reply saying it’s best they sleep separate tonight, and Jensen pouts as he rolls over to faceplant into his pillow.

He doesn’t see Misha again until breakfast, and he shows Jensen a picture of him standing in front of shop called Castiel’s, that he jogged past this morning. Rolling his eyes, he elbows Misha and finishes his breakfast, with a slight hangover.

After breakfast, Misha follows him to his room, and they collapse on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs, grinning at each other, sharing kisses. Rome is less than a week away, and they’re going to enjoy their time until then.


End file.
